


To Every Season

by mydeira



Series: Something Maybe 'Verse [18]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:06:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That last step is the hardest to take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Every Season

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: very vague for “A Day In The Death”
> 
> Disclaimer: I’m still neither RTD nor the BBC, just exorcising bunnies.
> 
> A/N: Follows A Time To Every Purpose and takes place after Doctor Who “Last of the Time Lords” but before Torchwood “Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang”. Part eighteen in the Something Maybe ‘Verse.

Four months, two weeks, four days and eighteen hours. Jack was still gone and Cardiff was still in one piece. Mostly. The world had only very nearly ended a half dozen times and the Rift had been quiet for the most part. And Torchwood prevailed.

But none of what they’d been through these last few months, let alone her tenure with Torchwood, had prepared Gwen for today.

She finished taping up the last box and stood. “There.”

Owen came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “That it, then?”

“That’s it.” Everything important had been moved that morning. But this last box and its rarely used pots and pans made it final. The life she’d had before Torchwood and away from Torchwood was now officially over. “It was a good flat.”

“It still is a good flat. Cozy, good light.”

Gwen nodded. “But I don’t live here anymore. Haven’t for awhile.” Before Rhys left and Jack left. Maybe just after she’d left her normal life behind. Normal. Oddly, she didn’t long for it, never had really. “Do you think we’re ready for this?”

Chuckling softly, Owen kissed her cheek. “Sweetheart, I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve slept here in the last three months.”

Each occasion following a spectacular blow-up between them. “I never did much sleeping,” she admitted.

“Neither did I.” Held her a little tighter, then released her and stepped around her for the box. “Always wound up kipping on the couch in the Hub because there were always too many reminders at my place.”

“The last bloke I lived with, things didn’t turn out so well. I can’t help thinking that—”

“Gwen, look at me.” She did. “It won’t be easy for us. Official or not, we have been living together for months now. This isn’t going to change anything.”

“I know, it’s just…” Gwen sighed. “I’m being silly.”

“No, you’re being sensible.” He smirked. “But sometimes you’ve got to take a chance.”

“Did we have to buy the place, though? We could have just re-upped on your old flat.”

“Could’ve, yeah. But it still would have been my place. You fitting into my life. Didn’t seem right.” Owen, however, could only play serious and adult for so long. “Besides, we got the loft for a steal. Not to mention an even better view of the bay.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Nothing like the potential for outrageous profit to overcome any aversion to long-term commitment. Though it’s a shame the windows aren’t as big.”

“Can’t have it all.” Hoisting up the box, Owen headed for the door. “Take your time, Gwen. There’s no rush.”

And with that, she was alone in the shell of what had been her home for a number of years. So many memories. It had been the very first place that been hers and hers alone. Then came Rhys. And it had been good. Even when things were falling apart, it hadn’t been horrible. But now she had to say goodbye. Rhys had moved on. She had moved on. Perhaps someone else could be as happy here as she had been.

She took one last look around and grabbed the keys from the counter. After she locked the door, Gwen never looked back.


End file.
